


and i don't know how i can do without

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Het, M/M, Multi, Slash, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breha and Obi-Wan find a common ground. In the end, neither of them wanted to bow out and take the martyr’s road. They both love Bail too much, and care too much about his happiness. And since Bail was never going to choose…</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i don't know how i can do without

**Author's Note:**

> So... this took me a really long time to write. Also I discovered that I am actually quite terrible at writing threesomes, but hey, what the hell, I enjoyed creating this fic! I've grown very attached to Breha Organa, as I RP as her with a group of awesome people over on Tumblr, and that's how this fic came about. Hope you enjoy!

Breha is not so naive as to assume Kenobi desires her any more than she desires him. While the Jedi is, admittedly, physically attractive (Bail has good taste, at least) she knows there are too many years of tight words and barely-disguised dislike between them for her to ever view him as a plausible bed partner.

And, honestly, she’d always assumed he was too fond of his own gender to view  _her_  as a bed partner. Still, Breha has to acknowledge the sight of him angling his mouth against Bail’s is… strangely stirring.

It seems odd, to be in this situation - lying beside her husband and his lover on her bed, still clothed and watching as Obi-Wan pushes Bail down on the bed, his body stretched over his, their mouths moving together.

"Are you sure, Breha?" Bail had asked earlier, eyes wide and fearful and hopeful at the same time, as if hardly daring to believe what was going on. Kenobi had been no use - he’d already started kissing Bail’s neck and couldn’t talk. Breha didn’t answer outright - she just leaned forwards and pressed her lips against Bail’s gently.

Of course she isn’t sure - she doesn’t want Obi-Wan Kenobi to be part of her life at all, but he’s part of Bail’s (and has been part of his life longer than she herself has) and she isn’t the Queen of Alderaan for nothing. She knows how to stand her ground, and she knows how to negotiate - ideal, then, because if Kenobi’s Jedi career shows off anything it’s that he knows a thing or two about negotiation.

In the end, neither of them wanted to bow out and take the martyr’s road. They both love Bail too much, and care too much about his happiness. And since Bail was never going to choose…

Bail throws his hand out, grasping for her and parting his mouth from Obi-Wan’s. “Breha,” he whispers. “Are you - all right with -“

She shares a small glance with Obi-Wan. His face is flushed, his lips slightly swollen (it’s… actually not a half-bad look on him), but his eyes are infuriatingly difficult to read. Breha fancies she sees a hint of acceptance in them, maybe even a challenge. She leans over, twining her fingers through Bail’s, and presses her mouth to his. His lips are parted and his tongue willing - she hasn’t kissed him like this for years, deep and heated and longing. He tastes of red wine, warm and heady, and she can taste Obi-Wan on his lips as well.

Not that she knows what Obi-Wan tastes like. Yet.

"Don’t mind me," she says, unable to stop the blush. "I was… enjoying the show."

She isn’t used to playing this part; no matter how she pretends, she thinks she might always be that blushing bride, nervous and too innocent. The fire of youth has long been stripped from her, though; torn away by years of agony and loss and loneliness. But drawing back from Bail, meeting Kenobi’s eyes again (heated, this time) before he resumes his attack on Bail’s clothes, she feels the embers start to reheat.

Breha tugs her hair out of its style, painstakingly twisted and plaited by her handmaidens into the latest Alderaanian fashion, as Kenobi starts kissing his way down Bail’s chest, his fingers playing at the buckle of his pants. Bail throws his head back, his mouth parted in a silent moan, and Obi-Wan’s left eyebrow quirks in amusement - for  _her_  benefit. Breha can’t draw her gaze away from Bail. He’s coming apart under Obi-Wan faster than he ever did for her, but she’s… she’s  _enjoying_  it, unexpectedly so. Heat rushes through her now as Obi-Wan’s hand presses against the bulge in Bail’s pants, teasing him through the fabric, and she watches transfixed as Bail thrusts up into his touch.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” he moans - a plea. Obi-Wan’s eyebrows quirks again and he obeys, swiftly tugging his pants down his legs and throwing them off to the side. Bail’s cock - well, she hasn’t seen  _that_  in a while, she’d forgotten how it affects her - is leaking at the tip already, but Breha isn’t allowed the chance to admire it for too long because Obi-Wan’s tongue swirls around Bail’s hardness.

"My Lady," he murmurs, meeting her eyes again, and takes Bail’s cock into his mouth.

Breha  _knows_  she’s flushing furiously now, aching, because it has been a while and she didn’t think she’d be as open to sharing her bed as this, but clearly she is because, yes, fine, watching Obi-Wan give her husband a blow-job is doing things to her, and -

"B-Breha, I -  _gods_  -” Bail moans, and now his eyes are open and watching her, his hands clenching in Obi-Wan’s hair as he languidly sucks his cock. 

It’s a wonder she can even move, but she does. Breha turns and starts undoing the back of her dress - fingers trembling, because Bail’s rasps for air are thickening her blood with arousal, and because she’s almost paralysed with the fear of them suddenly laughing at her, deciding she isn’t welcome after all and deriding her for ever thinking she might have a place here. Her hands slow, shaking with humiliation that hasn’t happened yet, her dress only half off as she still faces away from Obi-Wan and Bail.

She gasps as Obi-Wan’s hands - they’re not Bail’s, she knows that - brush against her shoulders. Breha freezes under his touch, her cheeks enflamed, but his movements are gentle and soothing and she has to wonder if he’s using the Force to calm her down.

"Won’t you join us?" Obi-Wan murmurs, that low cultured timbre striking her in ways she never thought it would. His fingers are light and warm as they brush against her exposed skin, pushing her dress down and grazing the contours of her body. 

There’s a scar, across her abdomen, from an emergency surgery during her fourth miscarriage; she hates it, but Obi-Wan’s fingers brush against it too, followed by his mouth - and  _now_  she understands why Bail likes his beard, because suddenly all she can think about is how Obi-Wan’s mouth and that tongue might feel between her legs. 

The Jedi Master laughs softly against her skin - she wonders if he could sense what she was thinking - and urges her over to Bail, whose hands come around her now and roam her body.

"I used to know you so well," Bail whispers hoarsely, eyes dark with desire. Obi-Wan moves behind him now, taking care of the rest of his own clothes, and Bail urges her lie down as he kneels over her. His hands rise to her breasts, cupping them gently as he lowers his lips to her collarbone, sucking the skin there. Breha can’t help it; she moans and arches into his touch with embarrassing lack of control, but it’s been so long and she hasn’t felt like this in years, and Bail’s hands and moving lower now, dipping between her legs and teasing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

"I haven’t changed much," she gasps back, squeezing her eyes closed. She doesn’t know what Obi-Wan is doing now, but she can feel his weight on the bed, still behind Bail - but then Bail’s fingers find her wetness and her aching centre, and she can’t focus on much of anything at all except the throb of pleasure that takes hold of her. She arches under him, crying out, as Bail’s fingers work her swollen clit. " _Bail!_ ”

He murmurs with breathless laughter, capturing her mouth again with his, and steadies himself before her then enters her slowly. Bail thrusts into her gently, and Breha reaches up to touch his cheek, feeling his flushed skin beneath her fingers as he fills her. He stills when he’s deep inside her, panting hard and his body trembling, and Breha runs her hands over his shoulders and back. And Obi-Wan, kneeling behind him - cock erect and leaking and glistening with lube (it’s a nice cock; Bail has  _very_  good taste) - places his hands on Bail’s back to steady him as he enters him.

Breha meets Obi-Wan’s clouded eyes over her husband’s shoulder, then watches Bail’s face as Obi-Wan fills him from behind. His eyes are closed and his head tilted back, mouth open with a silent moan, and the sight of him taking pleasure from the both of them warms her. Then Obi-Wan begins to move, setting the pace, and Bail moans and moves with him, his cock pumping inside her and the pressure of his body over hers rubbing her clit again, making her blood pound and her heart hammer as Bail’s lips suck at her neck and Obi-Wan’s hands roam Bail’s back and move around his body to graze her breasts.

Bail comes first, with a heady groan and a shudder, tensing and spilling his seed deep inside her. His thrusts jerk out of control and it’s enough to send Breha over the edge as well, gasping and her body shakes with pleasure and her mind whites out. Obi-Wan follows, his own shudders shaking through Bail, and Breha dares to reach up around Bail (who has let his weight rest against Breha) and run a hand along his jaw. Courteously, Obi-Wan doesn’t collapse over Bail; he eases to his side, settling close beside Breha, and Bail mumbles something against her shoulder before drawing out of her, and collapsing down on her other side.

She feels strange, to be lying between her husband and his lover, and wonders if they’d rather be lying together than with her in between - but before she can say anything, Obi-Wan’s hands draw around her waist and Bail turns to her, pressing his mouth firmly against her. “Thank you,” he whispers, heartfelt, reaching over her with his free hand for Obi-Wan, and Breha smiles against his mouth.


End file.
